The pain is eating at my heart,
Breaking down my defences, sucking me dry.
Soon it will be completely hollow,
Devoid of all emotions and fears.
A part of me wants that, to feel nothing,
The other part wants the pain as proof I'm still real.
But am I truly real, or a figment of someone's imagination?
Are my feelings real or baseless desires?
I feel alone, the echo of pain in my heart,
Is all it recognises, cuz nothing I want,
Ever truly wants me back, not my true self,
And being alone in this world hurts.
Wounds of the flesh heal, those of the heart don't,
They only increase and cause the owner pain.
The past should stay in the past yet we all know,
It can't stay there, its what shapes the future.
I've come to think of myself as
YOU ARE READING
Lost
PoetryThe fifth in the collection.... It speaks of the soul....The heart.... Lost in a haze of life and heartbreak. Forces the mind to think.... And the heart to admit
